


hold onto me (and please don't let me go)

by orphan_account



Series: And Not Even Gods Can Destroy (Our Love) [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: ...sorta, But then this happened, Cuddling, I'm Sorry, It really was supposed to be absolutely fluffy, M/M, Maybe a little regrets..., Mild Angst, POV: 2nd Person, POV: Tony Stark, Series: ANEGCD, Someone Give Tony A Hug, Something Akin To Fluff, Sorry Not Sorry, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is Why The Author Gets Nothing Nice In Life, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Unbeta'd, but not really, but really, shhh - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 09:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>In which there's an excessive amount of a vague cuddling thing, a good bit of <s>attempted</s>cuddling, and there's some nudity. Also, the author tries really hard to add in some mild angst <s>or something</s> to this because, really, they thrive off angst...and there's no other excuse for it really.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	hold onto me (and please don't let me go)

**Author's Note:**

> No, I'm not giving up on [Of Destruction, Saviours, and Fighters](http://archiveofourown.org/series/34249), I am taking a long break from it. I need to fix my mind before I can come back to such an intense story. That being said, I am going to go ahead and do this 30 day OTP challenge thing that everyone is doing. While I don't have a set OTP, I thought it'd be nice to do this. I chose FrostIron because it gives me the ability to keep my muse fully intact. I'm not doing this daily cause I hate that shit, but I will get them all done. Some (such as this one and a couple others) will fall under two new categories rather than one like the rest. You'll see what I mean. 
> 
> Also, don't forget to hover things to see translations.

There were nights where sometimes the darkness was a lot darker than he ever really anted it to be. Those times when nightmares and inferiority plagued and leeched on his very being. Those times when he found himself rolling away from the warmth (the one bit of warmth that was actually a slight chill but when his overheated body pressed up against the slight chill, it created something lovely and perfect and _warm_ ) to wander out onto the balcony.

There were those times when he'd step out into the night and take in his surroundings, the distant lights and soft sounds of hustling and bustling reminded him that he was here and not _there_ (because _there_ is not _here_ and _there_ is lonely and empty and tainted with the blood of aliens and sand and the taste of bile and ozone). Those times where the wind would brush against his nude body, a shiver running up and down his spine as he sighed softly and contently.

Those were the nights like tonight.

And as he stepped out onto his balcony, nursing a glass of the finest scotch and nude body exposed to the silent night air, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He exhaled inaudibly before taking a sip of his drink and allowed his mind to drift. Preoccupied with his thoughts and absentminded sipping, he failed to hear the soft footsteps nearing him. When familiar arms wrapped themselves around his waist and he was greeted with that familiar scent and warmth (the kind that screamed _safe_ and _alive_ and _**love**_ ), his eyes drifted close again. He leaned against that solid warmth like it was his only lifeline ( _and really, it was_ ) and sighed softly. Inhaling, he smiled something small and soft as the scent of evergreens and magic and winter and something extraordinary mingled with the air around them.

Words were meaningless in this situation and they were bypassed save for the soft "Loki" and "Anthony" that whisped through the air like fading smoke. Fingers wrapped around the wrists about this waist before trailing along the pale hands, tracing every vein and healed (and healing) scars. The wandering fingers eased as they reached the tip of the other's fingers and the hand soon found their place above a hand, seeking out that _chill_ that balanced out the overwhelming heat. Their fingers twined together and created the most beautiful clash of pale and tan almost as absentmindedly as he sipped the last lingering bits of alcohol in his glass.

"Come back to bed with me, svass."

He nodded once and allowed the other to lead him back inside, their fingers still linked as the now empty glass was taken from him and left behind. The door opened slightly and closed just as audibly when they were both inside. Time seemed to move too fast or too slow in his mind and so he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be gently manhandled; the slight cold that lingered on his body (and wow, how far gone was he that he didn't even _feel_ that) slowly drifted melted into his normal temperature as he was laid gently down on the bed and under the covers. His eyes fluttered open in time to watch the his lover slip into bed beside him. His hand reached out to caress the lines of the other's face as if he hadn't already memorized them, as if he were scared that this might disappear from him (and _god was he scared...so so terribly scared_ ) and they both instinctively inched closer and closer until their breaths and limbs mingled together and making them one.

He leaned down to rest his head against the crook of the other's neck, his nose pressing against the side of the pale column and he inhaled again. He pressed soft kisses along the other's neck and sighed in contentment.

"Loki..."

"Hm?"

".... _ek ann thér_."

"Me too, love...me too," he smiled at the response and inhaled the other's scent once more before closing his eyes and drifting into a comforting slumber.

When he awoke again, it was still dark and when he glanced to his side, he smiled bitterly as the empty coldness he was greeted with. He ran his fingers over one of the pillows before sliding over to that side and inhaling deeply. It still smelt like evergreens, winter, and _warmth_. He released the breath he nearly forgot he was holding and closed his eyes again.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I wrote this and why it ended the way it did. I'm so sorry...sorta...not really. But no, really...I really intended to write mild angst, but...it became something else. I'm sorry. And before anyone asks, I'll clear somethings up:
>
>>   
> 1\. Loki's status is unknown, however Tony presumes that he's dead as that's the only option that make sense in his mind. Which explains why he's equating Loki to warmth and normally someone being dead equates to coldness. Makes sense?  
> 2\. Tony was essentially in a state of drifting between reality and slumber. It's almost equivalent to lucid dreaming whilst awake (if that makes sense).  
> 3\. _Ek ann thér_ is Old Norse for "I love you", if I'm not mistaken. I haven't touched any language studies, let alone Old Norse, in so long...so I may be wrong...but Google agrees with me, so that's okay. (I included this translation note unless the hover thing decides to be a twat for me.)  
>  4\. Tony does not know Old Norse fluently, obviously. But in my mind, Tony wishes to be closer to understanding Loki and began to learn bits and pieces of Old Norse so that he could do so. It's hi way of showing his love for Loki since he feels that he really can't in any other way. (Headcanon!Loki is very flattered, tbh.)  
> 5\. Yes, there is a sequel. And some of these prompts for the 30 days challenge will fall under this series of works also.  
> 


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